


walls cave in

by ygrittebardots



Series: the gathering fire [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 03:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3311651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ygrittebardots/pseuds/ygrittebardots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are worse assignments than travelling halfway across the galaxy to spring a senator out of jail, only this is the third time this year and Padmé's starting to think he's doing it on purpose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	walls cave in

Rule one: Anakin Skywalker does not play well with others.

Jedi Knight Padmé Naberrie has always known this about him. It was the first - well, third, really - thought she’d ever had about the man.

(The first was less of a thought, really, and moreso the blinding wave that is the absurd Force presence surrounding Anakin. And the second had more to do with how unfairly attractive he is, but Padmé, at twenty-one, had thought at the time she knew how to let that kind of thinking pass without issue.)

And alright, given the life he’s led, she understands why. She does. But still she can’t help but begrudge him for it as she finishes slicing through the third group of battle droids she’s encountered so far on the base. She’s not caught hint of a single organic being so far, despite her senses screaming otherwise, and it’s starting to set her on edge. Quietly she powers down her lightsaber, keeping the hilt firmly nestled in her palm all the same.

“Artoo,” she murmurs into her comlink as she rounds a corner, then stops. Because if the crashes and grunts coming from the cell half a hallway down aren’t enough to alert Padmé that she’s getting close, the Force signature that smashes against her like a wall of durasteel most definitely is.

The cell is not actually locked from the outside, and when the door slides open, Padmé nearly laughs. Dark blond hair plastered to his face, Anakin is half-hopping around the cell, clutching his knee in pain, muttering something darkly under his breath in Huttese, and looking like he could happily commit murder.

“Senator Skywalker,” she says, and leans against the doorframe with arms resting across her chest, not bothering to keep the amusement from her voice. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

Anakin, when he sees her, breaks into a shit-eating grin. “Padmé,” he says, knee entirely forgotten, “what took you so long?”

Padmé doesn’t know the senator from Tatooine, not really. Not beyond knowing him as the freedom fighter who, at eighteen, led the revolt that drove the Hutts off his planet. Not beyond his work to bring Tatooine into the Republic. Not beyond the four individual rescue missions she’s undertaken on his behalf since.

The good senator, you see, has a habit of pissing people off that usually ends with him being abducted.

“What made you so sure I was coming for you?” she counters easily, trying to ignore how closely he’s entered into her space.

“C’mon, Master Jedi,” he says, so close he’s practically looking down at her, and she wonders how he manages to make a mere honorific sound so full of suggestion. “When have you ever let me down?”

“Keep that up and you’ll probably find out. Come along, senator, I _am_ trying to rescue you here.”


End file.
